Déjà vu
Translated By Priya
Arun
from the Original Tamil Novella, Meendum Oru
Kaadhal Kadhai by Cable Sankar
Part 1
“Hullo….Shankar?” That
voice, that unmistakable American accent. Could it be her? Really? After all
these years?
“Yes?”
“Hi! This is Shraddha.”
A brief pause. Oh god, it WAS her! Only she could say that name with such élan.
***
“Sharada Reddy?”
“Bullshit! Not Sharada
you ass, it’s SHRADDHA. Repeat after me? Slowly...Shra-ddha. Three kisses if
you get it right.
“Okay let me try.
Sha-ra-da Reddy. Six kisses, two for every syllable I get right. Deal?”
***
We had met for the first
time at my friend Meera’s workplace. I happened to visit her on some work. When
Meera and I were at the cafeteria sipping coffee, somewhere out of the blue,
her strong, obviously expensive perfume wafted across, invading each of my five
senses. I sat there, gaping at her as she walked past us like a diva on the red
carpet. Meera shook me to my senses. “Stop ogling. Will you? She’s a new
trainee here, Shraddha Reddy.”
“You know…she comes from a very poor family. Her dad owns just two pharmaceutical firms in the USA. They are on a constant look out for the next meal…” added Meera, her voice brimming with sarcasm.
I nodded slowly, “Yeah, the assets do tell a lot about her financial status.” The only response I got from Meera was a resounding thwack on my head.
Meera rolled her eyes at
me. “Can’t you think of anything else at all? You’re just.... pathetic.”
“Come on now. I’m only
being normal. I don’t fake it like the others do. If a man tells you that he
only looks at your face, please, don’t ever trust him. Take my word for it.”
Feeling smug at my little speech, I began goading Meera for an introduction to Shraddha.
While I was still pestering my friend, Shraddha sauntered towards us, balancing
with amazing ease, a bottle of lemonade and two sandwiches. I must say, she
looked smoldering hot.
As soon as she got to
our table, she stretched out the bottle of lemonade towards me, as if we knew
each other for ages. “Care for some?” she asked. Meera and she shared a
sandwich each. That is when I got to look her at close quarters. The wilderness
of curls tamed with a lot of effort, yet a few rebel curls playing truant, huge,
dark eyes with a glint of mischief about them, luscious lips with a just hint
of matching gloss, an errant upper tooth sticking out playfully on the right
corner of her lovely mouth, the giant gold loops in her ears. She was a little
tall and had a typically prominent Andhra-nose.
She went about gracefully
nibbling into her sandwich; she had an air of sophistication about her that
Meera didn’t. Every inch of her body
language seemed to scream out to me, “Hey I am way above your league...not even
the same zip code.”
Shraddha who suddenly
noticed me gazing at her, quickly said, “Hi! I’m sorry. I’m Shraddha.
I’ve joined Meera’s team as a trainee here...just been a week now. I
don’t think we’ve met.” And so she jabbered on and on and on. The way her gold
loops kept step with every nod of her head was delightful to watch.
“This is my buddy
Shankar,” said Meera. “A qualified mechanical engineer, whiling away his time
doing odd Marketing jobs. Ask him and he will tell you, his ultimate destination
is the world of films. Anyway. Shankar, meet Shraddha. Shraddha, meet Shankar,”
she did the much awaited introductions with a sly wink aimed at me.
As we shook hands, I
felt some kind of a connect between the two of us. Lost in thought, I only
could mutter a feeble Hi!, the word stuck in my throat as it were. Meera
looked at me in amazement. I cleared my throat and tried again. “Hi!” I said.
Ah! That sounded a little better. “Hi! Sharada” I said again. She wriggled her palm
out of my grip and said rather crossly, “Not Sharada. It's Shra-ddha...come on say it?” Faking
a sulk, she said “Nobody ever gets it right,” and looked me sharply.
“Gosh! Just look at him,
Meera! Doesn’t he look like a blushing bride, right out of a cheesy Tamil
film?” As if on cue, Meera acted out a coy look. They both had now ganged up
against me—two against one. They were still at it. Pointing to my face, “Hey
look! He looks cross,” saying this, her eyes still fixed at me, Shraddha
suddenly ruffled my hair.
“Don’t you touch my
hair!” I yelled out, rather angrily. With their mirthful peals of laughter
abruptly cut short, they stared at me looking shocked.
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